


your gravity has got me bowing in devotion

by aquaexplicit



Series: if i'm dancing [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Cisco in Lingerie, Harriscofest2017, Harry Is Too Flustered And Too Smitten To Function, Living Together, M/M, Post Season 3, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 15:03:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11900217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquaexplicit/pseuds/aquaexplicit
Summary: Cisco has learned a lot about Harry in the time Harry's been staying at his apartment. Harry is kind of a slob. He keeps ketchup in the fridge. He likes to arrange the spices both alphabetically and by height.Harry has learned Cisco likes to wear panties.





	your gravity has got me bowing in devotion

**Author's Note:**

> [UPDATE: THIS FIC NOW HAS LOVELY ART OF HARRY BLUSHING AND CISCO BEING PRETTY. PLEASE GO GASP OVER IT.](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/sagerosecooperative/170159143490)

Cisco has learned a lot about Harry in the time Harry's been staying at his apartment. Harry is kind of a slob. He keeps ketchup in the fridge. He likes to arrange the spices both alphabetically and by height.

He also likes to put the hot sauce on the very top of the counter. Technically, Cisco can reach it. He just has to push up on his toes to do it.

Cisco is on the tips of his bare feet when Harry comes into the kitchen, telling Cisco the delivery guy is here.

“Yeah, I heard the doorbell. You pick up any cash last time you were on your Earth or am I still racking up credit card debt to buy you dinner?”

Harry doesn't answer immediately. Cisco finally gets his sauce. When he settles down and looks to see what Harry's damage is, Harry is staring at him with a slack jaw. His tongue is pressed against the pink of his bottom lip and his chest is fluttering. Cisco has a  moment of thinking that it's a good look for him before worry seeps in.

“Harry? Did you just have a stroke?”

Swallowing hard, Harry licks his lips. His eyes keep scanning Cisco's body. Over his face then down. At his hands then down. At his chest then down. Harry’s mouth works like he's trying to speak but can't.

Cisco's legitimately concerned. He walks forward. “Harry?”

The movement brings Harry out of his stupor enough to speak, but it's only one word. “Red.”

Cisco blinks. Harry's gaze drops again.

Embarrassment floods Cisco until his lungs are tight with it. Fuck.

Cisco looks down where his shirt has ridden up and his baggy sweats have slipped low on his hips. It's laundry day. He wouldn't wear the pants his new superhero body is too slim for if it wasn't.

The panties would still be on under whatever other pants he was wearing, though. They're his favorite style - cotton with lace trim - and color combo, simple black framed with bright red. Comfortable and pretty. Cisco can see the lace peeking happily over his hips.

Harry can see it too.

“Um,” Cisco says. Harry hasn't shifted his gaze from the lace.

The doorbell rings again.

Cisco pulls up his sweats. “I'll get it.”

When Cisco moves past Harry, he hears Harry take a deep, shuddering breath that only fans the flames on Cisco's cheeks.

“I got,” Harry rasps behind him. “I have. There's money in my pants.”

“I got it!” Cisco tells him sharply, waving one hand. He keeps his other hooked over the waistband of his sweats.

-

Harry's being weird.

He keeps staring at Cisco with his mouth open. Anytime they speak, Harry spends most of his time sputtering over his words. He won't look Cisco in the eye and he won't let his gaze drop below Cisco's collar, at least when Cisco is looking. Cisco has caught Harry's gaze following his hips more than once.

Cisco plans on waiting the awkwardness out. It will fade, the same way their initial antagonism faded, the same way the strangeness of sharing a bathroom faded. It will settle back into the new, comfortable routine they created, eating meals together and falling on the couch after a day of heroing and catching each other’s gazes, each other’s breaths.

He doesn't owe Harry any explanations. Harry will get over it. Things will go back to good between them.

A week goes by and Harry is still being a freak about a little peek of panties. It’s starting to piss Cisco off. Disappoint him, too, because he was pretty sure they were having Significant Moments over dinner and binge-a-thons. If Cisco’s choice of undergarments is the thing that breaks them and not the thousand other things, Cisco is going to punch something.

Cisco breaks on a Wednesday morning when they're in the lab and he has to lift on his toes to grab some wires, only to turn around to Harry's stupefied gaze.

“Okay,” Cisco snaps. “You have to find some chill, dude.”

Harry pauses, clearly caught. “I don't,” he says, swallowing.

Cisco rolls his eyes. He crosses his arms and fixes Harry with his most narrow gaze. “So I wear panties,” he says.

Harry looks ready to leap out of his skin. He pulls at his shirt collar, shifts on his feet, looks around the room. It'd be hilarious if Cisco didn't want the lab to collapse on him again.

“What I wear is my own business, okay, and I'm sorry it freaks you out so damn much, but if you can't deal with a grown man living his truth then maybe you shouldn't be staying in my apartment.”

Cisco says it in a rush, ripping off the bandage and taking in the landslide of pain. He doesn't want Harry to leave. It's nice, not being alone with Harry. Cisco loves Barry but living with him had been an exercise in not throwing hands or Barry's junk. Living with Harry -

It's been comforting. Knowing Harry's there without having to feel him constantly. Having the peace of companionship. Sharing loneliness with each other until it's almost gone completely.

But Cisco can't deal with Harry judging him. With Harry thinking whatever he's been thinking about Cisco since he saw that damn lace.

When Harry doesn't say anything, more words start pouring out.

“It's not a sex thing,” Cisco says, because why wouldn't his brain make this situation worse. Harry swallows again and it looks like he may have inhaled his own tongue. “I just like the way they feel, okay? They're more comfortable than boxer briefs and way prettier and. Yeah.”

Cisco manages to stop himself. Unfortunately Harry's already hooked on the confession.

“Prettier,” Harry says.

Cisco bites his lip. “Aesthetics are important.”

Harry nods. “Ramon.” Cisco nearly winces at the name. It feels so low and so formal. So far away from where Cisco thought they were.

Harry must notice, because he sighs. “Cisco. I don't. What you wear isn't any of my business. You don't have to explain anything to me.”

Cisco furrows his brow. “Then why have you been acting so weird?”

“I was. You. They.” Harry takes off his glasses then puts them back on. “It was just surprising. I'm just surprised. I didn't mean to be weird.”

“Okay,” Cisco accepts. “Well you have been. So you need to stop.”

“Okay,” Harry agrees. “Do you still want me out?” he asks then, more quiet than Cisco's ever heard him. It makes Cisco's heart hurt a little.

“No. But you do have to buy dinner tonight,” Cisco says, hoping to lighten the mood.

Harry smiles. Everything is fine.

-

Except everything isn't fine because Harry is _still being weird_.

It's been two weeks now and Cisco can't figure out what Harry's problem is. Harry said he wasn't judging. Cisco believes him because Harry's not really the judging type. He generally either accepts the thing, says his piece about why the thing is stupid and moves on, or doesn't care about it.

Harry cares about this. Cisco can't figure out why.

Until he does.

It's another day of fighting bad guys and not getting Barry out of the speed force. Cisco is wearing the peach silk high cuts that match the design in his shirt. He's leaning back in a chair, stretching his stiff muscles, when Harry comes into his workshop.

Cisco looks up to see Harry see the flash of his panties then turn around immediately, cheeks red, and run face first into the wall.

Cisco laughs so hard he nearly falls out of his own chair.

Among Harry's embarrassment and manic words and flurry to get out of the room, it finally occurs to him -

Harry's not offended. He's not freaked out.

He _likes_ it.

-

Cisco spends one of the most frustrating weeks of his life trying to get Harry to get into his panties. Harry is oblivious to the fact that he's being seduced, though, and Cisco is forced to abandon subtlety.

Harry is the one to sign for the package, which actually works out. Cisco finds him in the living room, standing at the door, running his fingers over the gold embossed _La Pearla_.

He has the decency to look embarrassed when he realizes Cisco has caught him.

“I, uh. I think this is yours.”

Instead of taking the package, Cisco steps forward.

“I need to try it on,” Cisco tells him, watching Harry inhale like he's been suffocating since the first time he saw Cisco's red lace. “I wasn’t exactly sure what size I’d need.”

“What is it?” Harry asks, but his face is flush. He knows what it is.

“I could show you,” Cisco offers. “If you want to give me a second opinion?”

For a second, Harry looks like he’s going to say no. Like he’s going to run away the same way he always does.

“Okay,” Harry says instead.

Cisco turns to walk to his room. He doesn’t look to see if Harry is following.

-

Harry is sitting on the bed when Cisco steps in from the bathroom. He swallows so hard Cisco's concerned he might choke. His fingers curl into the comforter and he looks caught between launching himself at Cisco or through the window.

Any nerves or hesitation that had tugged at Cisco's belly sizzle away under Harry's stare.

He resists the urge to smooth the red lace that comes just above his belly button or adjust the straps on his shoulders. He's never actually worn a bralette before, but he'd figured if he was going to seduce Harry with lingerie, he might as well go all out.

“What do you think?” Cisco asks, gently, in case Harry decides this is Too Much for a first hookup and bolts.

“It's very - you're very. Red.” Harry uncurls his fingers with what looks like great effort. His voice sounds like he's been gurgling gravel. It scrapes all of Cisco's exposed softness. “Nice. I think it looks nice. Very nice.”

Cisco closes the door. He settles against it, letting all his warmth and want unfurl before licking his lips.

“It's handmade,” Cisco says. He runs his fingertips over the bottom hem of the bralette and watches Harry sway forward. “You can touch it, if you want.”

Harry does want. That much is clear. Cisco just hopes that he's going to take.

Some internal struggle goes down in Harry's head. Whatever it is, the part Cisco is rooting for, the part that's been watching Cisco under shadows since Harry stumbled onto this Earth, wins.

Harry moves with slow steps and slow breaths. It's a little like a vibe. Everything is hazy and lazy and thick. Cisco has the same underwater feeling, calm and sure.

When Harry is only a breath in front of him, Harry stops. Hesitates.

“Are you sure?” Harry asks. He sounds pained. His eyes are burning into Cisco's skin where the lace strap lays flat over collarbone.

Instead of answering, Cisco takes one of Harry's hands into his own. He moves slowly, giving Harry the chance to pull away, and brings Harry's fingertips to run along the strap. His thumb and pinkie brush Cisco's bare skin. They both inhale, sharp, flaying each other. Harry sways again, like he just might fall through the earth.

“How does it feel?” Cisco asks.

“Soft,” Harry breathes.

Cisco closes his eyes at the feel of Harry's thumb sliding across his chest, settling in the hollow of his throat.

“Yeah,” Cisco agrees. “That's why it's so expensive. But it's worth it.”

“No,” Harry says.

Cisco opens his eyes to find Harry staring at him with a hunger that's as bright and bottomless as a breach. Cisco swallows and feels Harry dragged along with him.

“Not the. Not this. You,” Harry explains. He presses his forehead to Cisco's and breathes in. “You're so soft. I didn't think you'd be so soft.”

And Cisco was not expecting that. He takes the words like a fist to the stomach. He'd been anticipating sharpness in Harry's mouth, words and kisses with teeth. Not this.

“Can I,” Harry starts, sounding unsteady.

“Yes,” Cisco answers before Harry finishes asking. Because of course the answer will be yes.

Harry kisses him. It's not as gentle as his hands, now both splayed on Cisco's shoulders, learning Cisco's skin and lace, but it's still softer than Cisco thought Harry would be. Cisco might melt a little.

When Harry pulls away it's to suck greedy gulps of air. Cisco busies his own mouth with kissing Harry's neck. He tries to match Harry tender for tender.

Harry strokes Cisco's bare arms. He flutters over Cisco's chest, tracing the line between skin and lace with reverence. Then he moves down, fingertips drifting over Cisco's nipples then his belly. His exploration stops when his palms slide flat over Cisco's hips and his fingertips press into the small of Cisco's back.

They kiss again. Cisco makes little noises he'd be embarrassed about if Harry's tongue didn't feel so good. If everything about Harry didn't feel so good. Harry's body, wrapped in his black sweater and cargo's, pressed flush against Cisco, both of them hard against each other's hips. Harry's hands that are wide and sturdy and have started petting Cisco again. Harry's want that licks at Cisco like a separate, needy thing.

“You feel so good.” Harry gasps like he forgot to breathe. He speaks with his mouth moving over the shell of Cisco's ear. “You look so good.”

Cisco wraps his own hands around Harry's hips to rock them impossibly closer. “I did it for you,” he admits, as if Harry hadn't already put it together.

Harry groans anyway.

He kisses Cisco again, hands on Cisco's face for the first time.

“Turn around for me.” Harry says. Cisco doesn't know if it's a question or an order, but Harry says it so lowly and his touch is so hot it doesn't really matter. Cisco does it.

Once he's pressed face first into the door, Harry makes a noise like he's hurt and curls his hands around Cisco's wrists. He presses those into the door, too, on either side of Cisco's hips.

“Is this - I want you to stay like this. I just want to touch you.”

Cisco is so on board with that plan. His fingertips push into the door in an effort to stay still and upright. He realizes Harry is definitely asking now.

“Good,” Cisco assures him. “I want what you want, Harry.”

Harry's hand comes to his chin, tilting him back into a kiss while Harry's other fingers push his hair to one side of his neck. Then Harry kisses from the corner of his mouth to his ear again, under, all over his exposed skin in a trail that makes him shiver.

It's an effort not to push himself further into the door. He needs pressure on the pressure building in his belly, his dick, cradled in a cruel tease of lace. The panties are already slick and ruined. Cisco tries not to make another desperate noise, pressing his hot cheek into the cool wood.

Harry's kissing along the nape of his neck. He moves to Cisco's shoulders and his fingers come under the bralette straps to tug them down, over Cisco's arms. Cisco doesn't know why that small movement whips heat straight through him but it does. He breathes shaky and lifts his hips, pressing into the throb in Harry's pants. Harry mouths at the sliver of newly exposed skin, groaning. He gets his hands on Cisco's hips again, both stilling him and pressing him back into the door.

“Tell me,” Harry says. He at least sounds as desperate as Cisco feels. “Tell me again. That you did this for me.”

Cisco practically scratches at the wall. “I ordered it for you,” Cisco says, feeling like he's about to choke on the admission. Harry rewards him by kissing across to his other shoulder. “I looked on the website to find something I knew would drive you crazy. I got it to wear just for you. To look good for you.”

And damn, Cisco really would be disappointed in how cheesy the words sound if they didn’t drive Harry to rock his hips, grind his dick against Cisco like he can’t help himself. Harry uses more pressure than he has the entire time.

“To look pretty for me,” Harry clarifies.

Cisco's toes curl in the carpet. “Yeah, Harry. To look pretty for you.”

Harry kisses his neck again. Moves over the knobs of his spine that shiver above the lace then down. Cisco feels the tremble of Harry's mouth through the bralette. Feels it flowing down his back, further and further until Cisco has to twist his neck to see how Harry's mouthing over the bottom hem.

He loses what's left of his composure when he sees Harry's on his knees.

Harry's palms spread over his ass. Cisco honestly doesn't know which of them makes the needier noise.

“You don't - you can't know. How you look in these. How you look all the time. What you make me - ”

Harry cuts himself off. Which is kind of a shame, because Cisco's pretty damn interested in what he makes Harry, but then Harry leans forward to run his tongue along the bottom hem of Cisco's panties. Cisco can wait on the sharing.

“Fuck,” Cisco says. He watches Harry press kisses and long licks over that border between panty and skin until he can't anymore, until it's too much. His eyes close and his head falls forward.

Harry delivers the first hint of teeth. He sucks at the meat of Cisco's thigh, teeth curling in with lips and lust. It's just as gentle as Harry's other touches but Harry works the skin for a long time. Cisco thinks he'll probably bruise in that spot, just a few inches below his panty line. Jesus. Christ.

Harry pulls off with a pop. He moves his attention to Cisco's other leg. His hands are everywhere. They’re still soft.

“Has anyone else ever seen you like this?” Harry asks against his calf.

“No.” Cisco looks back at him again, watching Harry run fingers over his legs, kiss the tender skin behind his knee. He doesn't speak again until Harry meets his gaze. “I told you. It's not a sex thing. Or it wasn't.” Cisco grins.

Harry frowns. “This isn't.” He struggles with the words for a moment. “Okay. It is. But that's not all I want from you.”

Cisco lets out a shaky breath. “I know.”

That's good enough for Harry, apparently. He bites at the swell between Cisco's ass and thigh, hands around Cisco's ankles. Cisco closes his eyes again.

Harry pulls away and urges Cisco to face him. Cisco follows Harry's directions and leans back against the door, all of his need on full display.

Harry's eyes are blown. “Look at you,” he breathes.

Cisco brings his own hands to Harry's face. Harry tilts into the touch. When Cisco traces his mouth, he licks at Cisco's fingertips.

“Put your hands above your head.” Harry's lips move over his skin. Cisco could argue but he doesn't want to.

Harry raises up a little until his face is even with Cisco's belly. He's pointedly ignoring Cisco's dick, pressed wet and heavy in the lace, staining the fabric. Cisco needs to be touched so badly it feels a little like he's going to die.

“Look at what a mess you are.” Harry doesn't even sound teasing, just awed, and Cisco has to look away again.

He gasps, high pitched and embarrassing, when Harry drags a lightly stubbled cheek over his belly. It burns from the outside in. Harry repeats the motion along his inner thighs then soothes the scrapes with his tongue. Cisco can't remember being more turned on in his life.

Until Harry nuzzles that biting flesh over Cisco's cock. Cisco is so sensitive the touch almost _hurts_. His fingers curl into fists around nothing.

Then Harry mouths over him. Hot against his already burning skin, wet against the already slick head of his dick. Cisco loses his mind but Harry's the one who groans like he's being played with. Harry licks where Cisco is pressed desperate to the lace.

“Is this what you thought about when you ordered these? What you wanted?” Harry asks against his hip.

It kind of is. Except Cisco hadn't imagined that Harry would be this soft in any universe. The reverence feels practically obscene and makes Cisco's blood burn all the hotter.

“Pretty much. There was less teasing and more of you actually touching me, though.”

Harry glares at him but finally shows some mercy. He brings touch into the mix, cupping Cisco through the lace. He pulls the panties down, still gentle, like Cisco's made of lace too. Cisco's hips stutter into the air and when Harry wraps a loose grip around him he wants to cry at how good it feels.

Harry doesn't push the panties down completely, just tugs them until Cisco's dick is free. Playtime is over then, apparently. Either Harry has gotten what he's wanted or he's tired of making himself wait. He sucks Cisco up with his thumbs digging into Cisco's hip bones.

Cisco fucks into his mouth and Harry lets him. Harry doesn't slap him down or glare or say _be still Ramon._  He just grunts, opens his mouth wider, moves his tongue whenever Cisco moves his hips. Cisco wants to touch him but Harry is giving so much, he only asked for one thing, so Cisco focuses on keeping his fists tight above his head.

Which is a little difficult, because Cisco doesn't know that he's ever felt this good. Sure it's been a while. But it's also never been Harry, who's brilliant and shares Cisco's lab and home and sometimes brain, who's making noises around Cisco's dick like he's never felt this good, either.

“Harry,” Cisco says, because he feels like he should. He wants to warn Harry. He thinks the wet hitches in his breath and the way he practically _whimpers_ are probably warning signs enough. But it's only polite.

Except as soon as he opens his mouth again, Harry grips his ass over the panties, and all of Cisco's words are swept in a tidal wave keen. All he manages is Harry's name.

Harry keeps sucking until Cisco makes a pitiful noise. “S’too much,” Cisco whines.

Harry sucks one more time, hard, then slides off.

Cisco is a panting mess of a thing, he knows. He can't quite catch his breath and his arms feel like they might be stuck in this position forever. His legs are trembling. Harry brings his hands to them, maybe just to feel Cisco shake in his devastating aftermath.

Cisco can see the hard line of Harry's dick through his cargo pants. Cisco's mouth feels dry and his body feels equally thrilled and exhausted. A sudden, familiar fear creeps across his neck - what if he can't give Harry what he wants -  but then Harry nips at him over the panties and rocks back on his heels.

Harry looks as wrecked as Cisco feels. “I want,” Harry starts, chest moving wildly. He looks feral. Cisco looks into the black of his eyes and wonders how deeply Harry can see inside of him.

“What? Harry, it's whatever you want. Tell me.”

“I just want to look at you.”

Cisco blinks at him. Harry just wants to look? That's - “Okay. Yeah. Anything.”

Harry pulls himself out. He's long, like Cisco imagined, and thick enough that Cisco's going to have to work for it. Cisco bites his lip. Hollow as he feels, he wants to touch. To taste. To make Harry lose it just as deeply.

Cisco's hands sag a little against the door. He's going to bring them down, maybe wipe at the spit on his panties, but Harry makes a distressed noise and stops pumping.

“Don't,” he rasps. “Leave them there. Don't move. Just let me - you're so fucking pretty like this. I just want to - ”

It sounds like it's hurting Harry to talk. From how long he's waited, how turned on he is, Cisco thinks it might. So Cisco brings his arms back up, spreads his legs a little wider, lets his head lull so his throat is vulnerable. If Harry wants to look, Cisco will give him something to look at.

Harry makes a glutaral sound. His eyes are wide open, darting over Cisco, in and out of him, animal and wild. He's pulling at his dick with quick, messy strokes, and Cisco tries to take note of how he likes it. Cisco keep his body open so Harry can drink his fill.

When Harry really starts shaking, he pushes himself onto his feet. He presses himself right over Cisco's own sticky mess, the red lace, the spit and come slick skin. One hand comes up to Cisco's wrists but it's more like Harry's holding onto him for dear life instead of keeping him pinned.

It only takes a few more strokes, then Harry is spilling, adding himself to Cisco's wreckage.

They stay silent and still for moments. Minutes, probably, or hours.

When Cisco’s breathing finally evens, he grins. “Holy shit,” he says, smiling up at the ruin that is Harry post bliss. “That was awesome.”

Harry laughs and they're kissing again. Cisco's not really sure who starts it, but they move lazy and languid.

“I'm gonna seduce you more often,” Cisco says.

“You are truly awful at it,” Harry says, burying his face into Cisco's neck. “So you’re going to need lots of practice.”

Cisco scoffs then winces when he finally brings his arms down. Harry pulls back and rubs his hands over them, warming away all the needles underneath. Gentling away all of Cisco's aches, the same way he's done since Cisco started collecting them.

“You know I,” Cisco starts, but swallows it down. Later. When they're not both covered with sweat and spit and come.

Harry doesn't press. Instead he says, “Shower.”

“I honestly don't think I can stand up that long.”

Harry gets a little smirk, far too self satisfied for Cisco to let slide. Cisco kisses it off of him.

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> As always, if you enjoyed this, comments/kudos are appreciated!


End file.
